Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Tucker
I’m never going to be the same after that fucking kiss.
For years, I’ve fantasized about devouring that pretty mouth. I’ve always known she’d taste of cherry lip gloss, sugar, and coffee. But to actually taste her—I’m forever fucking changed. Even if she is shooting daggers of fire at me with her narrowed eyes right now.
“You had a fucking radio this whole time?” she shouts a second time.
“I’m a guide,” I say, as though the answer is obvious.
“Then why didn’t you call Fred with it when you had the chance? He has a radio in his van.”
She paces in mad, frantic circles. I’d bet my last dollar that her reaction is about more than the radio. She sank into my kiss like there was no tomorrow. Like she wanted to kiss me as badly as I wanted to kiss her. This is no longer one-sided. Hell, maybe it never was.
“And I bet Winnie has one back at the lodge too, doesn’t she?” Gabby demands.
“Yeah, she does.”
She storms up to me, digging in my zipped up pocket for the radio. Her hand skims dangerously close to the cock that’s still half hard for her. She pulls out the radio and shakes it at me. “Then call her on it. Now.”
“To do what, Gabriella?”
I catch her by the elbow to still her frantic movements and take my radio back. The flicker of heat betrays her mask of anger. I bet I could push her back up against that boulder again, and she’d beg me to make her come so hard she leaves her fucking body. Yeah, I’m done playing nice.
“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not all that close to a road.”
“How far?”
“Nearest road is a half mile.”
“That’s close enough. What the hell are you waiting for?” she asks, spinning and bending to grab her things. Something flies out of the waterproof bag, but she’s in my face again with demands before I can point it out. “Let’s go.”
“The road is that way,” I say, pointing across the river.
The rapids are too strong to cross without a raft or kayak.
We’d be swept away in seconds. It’s a miracle we survived the spill when we did.
Another ten yards downriver, and even the most experienced guides would have shitty odds of survival.
“I hate you,” she hisses.
“No you don’t, Gabriella.” It takes little effort to back her up against the boulder once more, and her gaze freezes on my mouth. I sink my head lower, until our lips are a feather’s width apart. “You might want to hate me, but you don’t.”
“Don’t you dare fucking kiss me again, Tucker,” she whispers, wetting her lips. She can’t stop staring at my mouth, and I let out a devilish chuckle.
“What if I do?” I ask, my voice low and seductive as I press my forehead to hers, gripping her hip and digging my fingers in possessively.
It’s entirely possible that fate brought Gabby Ownes back into my life to give us one more chance.
And I have zero plans of wasting that opportunity, even if it means playing dirty to break down those walls she’s built to keep me out.
“Then I might toss your body into that river,” she says, flashing me a devious grin.
“Still have murder on the brain?” I tease, flicking my tongue against her bottom lip quickly.
She gasps, her eyes instantly narrowing. But the heat behind them is more raw need than irritation.
“I’m not afraid of you, Gabriella.” My hand glides up her neck, and I hook my thumb beneath her jaw to tilt her face up.
“You should be.” Desire dances in those blue eyes, confirmed by the hand she snakes up the back of my neck, fingers digging into my damp hair.
“If you want to dump my body in the river,” I tug her wetsuit open all the way to her waist, “you can try.”
Her fingernails scrape the back of my neck. “I’m stronger than I look.”
“Maybe. But it’d be a shame to kill me before you granted me the pleasure of making you come so hard you that you forget your own name.”
A faint whimper escapes her throat.
I slip my hand inside her wet suit, caressing her hip. Two layers separate my fingers from her bare skin. “I’m not afraid to prove myself.”
“Oh?”
I grip the waistband of her leggings, and she gasps.
“Do you want me to make you come, Gabriella?”
“Yes,” she pants, dragging my mouth back to hers.
I stroke my hand between her legs, over the silky fabric of her thermal leggings, savoring each and every noise she makes. Our lips move together in a slow frenzy, desperate yet thorough.
Gabby rocks her hips against my touch.
“I could make you come just like this,” I say, pressing lips to her cheek. “With all these fucking clothes on.”
“Tucker.” The way she pants my name makes my cock throb. If I told her I was going to fuck her senseless against this boulder, I suspect she’d make it her mission to free my cock from its many layers and invite me right into that tight pussy.
But when I finally plunge into her sweet channel for the first time, it’s going to be because she’s done pretending this isn’t meant to be. It’ll be when she’s begging me to claim her for my own.
Until then, I’m going to torture her in every other pleasurable way I can imagine. And my imagination is rampant with ideas to do just that.
“You’re sure you want me to touch you, Gabriella?” I whisper the question against the shell of her ear, nibbling on her lobe.
“Yes, dammit.”
“Impatient, are we?”
“I want to see if you’re capable of actually making me forget my own name with nothing more than those supposed magic fingers,” she insists. “It’s a pretty big claim.”
“I’ve never shied away from a challenge,” I say, bringing my lips back to hers as I slip my hand beneath her leggings and panties at once. She moans when my fingers slide through her folds. “God, you’re fucking wetter than the river.”
“It’s your fault.”
“Oh?”
“It’s that fucking beard.”
“Next time,” I say, circling my fingers around her swollen button, “I’ll let you enjoy this beard between your legs.”
I plunge a finger into her channel, and she cries out, digging those fingernails into my neck. She kisses me harder, gyrating her hips to the merciless movement of my hands between her legs.
Next time, I’ll take my time.
But right now, I have a fucking point to prove.
I finger fuck her like it’s the most important mission of my life.
I don’t let up when she starts to explode, I go harder, faster.
She cries out my name, and it echoes. I feel smug, wondering if the kayakers due on the water hear her pleasureful cries.
I’ve always been a little possessive when it comes to Gabriella Owens, and to hear my name on her lips as she comes apart makes me absolutely feral.
When she finally stills, I pull my hand free and suck her juices from my fingers.
She watches me, a sated smile spreading across her bruised lips.
“Still want to dump my body in the river?” I ask.
“Not yet,” she admits. “I want to see what else you got up your sleeve.” Her gaze drops to my crotch. “And under the hood.”
It’s entirely possible that when our kayak capsized, we didn’t survive. That this entire scene that just played out on the shore was nothing more than a fantasy on the other side. But whatever dimension we’ve claimed as our own, I wouldn’t give it up for the world. Not now.
I’ve never stopped loving Gabriella.
And now that she’s back in my life, I’ll do whatever it takes to make her mine—forever.